These Words Are All I Have
by Team Jem Carstairs
Summary: If you could write a letter to a loved one who has died, what would you say? Will tries to figure that out. Post Clockwork Princess, I guess. Told from Will's POV. A one-shot for now, but that might change.


**This is a random idea that went through my head when my friend told me the name of her blog was "These Words Are All I Have." She thinks the name was from a Fallout Boy song; if so, I give them credit. Also, thanks to Shakespeare for the Romeo and Juliet quote.**

**Disclaimer: All credit to C squared, whether she kills Jem or not... I can't hate her, though, 'cause I started CoFA and it is BEAST.**

**These Words Are All I Have**

I dotted one last _i_ and started rereading the letter I had just completed. The first thing I noted was how different my spiky, chicken-scratch writing was from Jem's elegant script. This hurt too much to continue to think about, so I stopped and kept reading.

_Jem-_

_It's been… strange, to say the least, in the year since I lost you. Actually, that phrase is not entirely accurate– you aren't lost. I know exactly where you are. I just can't be there with you. I want to tell you everything that's happened since you left us, but I don't think I have enough time for that. It would take a lifetime._

_Did you know Sophie has gotten married? Just last month, to some mundane whose name was, coincidentally, Thomas. She's happy with him, which is all anyone could ask, I suppose. Jessamine is almost jealous– she herself is still the lonely, angry wench we knew and loved. Actually, only you could see the merit in her– the rest of us turned away. You were special like that, always able to see the best in people. I suppose that's why you were hardly ever cross with me. You knew I didn't mean to be so cruel._

_Charlotte is having a baby in a few months. She's worried about how she can juggle caring for a baby and running the Institute, but she'll manage. She always does. Henry is ecstatic, of course. He's going to spoil this child terribly, I know it, but as long as he doesn't try to teach him… her… _it_ about clockwork, or automatons, or whatever it is that he works with in his laboratory, I'm sure all will be well._

_This brings me to Tessa… she's engaged, and do you know to whom? To Gabriel Lightwood, of all people. He's different now, I must give him that. We are not on good terms, but we are no longer on bad ones either. We are cordial if we happen to bump into each other somewhere, but that is all. She loved you, you know. Perhaps you did know– you always did seem to know things of that nature without anyone having to tell you. You knew even before we ourselves knew. It was one of the things I loved about you._

_For now I have no choice but to give nod to myself. I miss you every day, Jem, ever since that fateful autumn morning. Do you remember how you wouldn't let anyone be with you but me? Not because you didn't care for them, but because you didn't want them to see you like that. You wanted them to remember you as you were, if not healthy than strong. Of course, you were strong to the end. I can't forget the way the clouds parted after you… left, as though Heaven itself was opening its gates to you. Of course it would, not one of one could doubt that. Did you know that I stay up each and every night, waiting for a glimpse of the stars? It was because you used to read quotes from whatever it was that you happened to be reading. "When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun." That was Romeo and Juliet, as I'm sure you know. You used to love it. If I look hard enough, I can almost see your face in the stars. At the very least, they shine the same bright silver as you did._

_By the Angel, I could write all night and still not say a thing. I'm reduced to rambling, but you never minded. I took you so much for granted, and I'm sorry. Sorry for making you worry, sorry that I didn't listen to you, and most of all, sorry that I couldn't save you. I love you, Jem, more than Tessa Gray ever could, would or did. I never meant to hurt you, and I wish… I don't know what I wish. I wish that I knew what you were thinking, I wish I had a chance to tell you all this in person, because I wish you were still here. I haven't sworn to another parabatai, nor will I ever. I am fated to wander the Earth as Orpheus did, because he couldn't save the one he loved either._

_I promise not to forget you._

_With all the love I can force my wounded heart to muster,_

_Will_

It hurt just to write the words, but it felt good to get these feelings out. I tucked the letter in the breast pocket of my coat and headed out. I stopped for nothing, spoke to no one, for I was a man with a mission. My destination was Blackfriars Bridge, where Jem had loved it best. I got there in record time and made sure no one was around, and luckily no one was. At the top of the bridge, just as the sky was fading from twilight to true darkness, I lit a match and set fire to the letter, watching as the tendrils of smoke that contained my love floated skyward, yearning to meet Heaven. The smoke dissipated in the wind, mingling with the fog off the Thames and the regular city smog until I could no longer see it. I felt a few tears slide down my cheeks, but I didn't wipe them away.

Those simple words could never explain my true feelings, of course– all the love, all the guilt, all the sadness and longing and _emotion_ that flooded my veins, scorching my heart. I did what I could, and I admit it lightened the load I carried. The words would never be enough, could never be enough, but for the moment they had to be, because these words are all I have.

**Well, there you go... Please review.**


End file.
